


Blood Runs Thick

by orphan_account



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Bottom Seth, Child Abuse, First Time, M/M, PWP, Top Ritchie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:51:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1497316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorchingly hot. Richie reads Seth's mind. Also, swearing and violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if I have to smack a disclaimer on this? But just in case, "I do not own anything".

 

 

                "Oh" Richie says, a little sound punching its way out. It was women, mostly, that he could see into. _Looked_ into. He'd never thought to look at Seth. He wasn't sure what had changed but _suddenly_

                Seth angled his face towards him at the sound, but he couldn't seem to wrench his eyes from the bloody mess on the ground. Richie dazedly thought it was lucky he hadn't killed her on the bed, they would be needing that.

                 Richie could see how scared Seth was of him and he wondered why he had been running away from that ever since he'd killed their father. It was nothing less than deliciously arousing. If he'd only _known_. All these thoughts, facts about his brother crowding his mind. It was akin to seeing everything in double exposure. Except now he saw his  careful restraint overlapped with Seth's longing. _Please Richie, touch me_ and _I'd let you Richie_ and _take me_ and _wanna feel you inside_ and _I'm sick, what's wrong with me_ and _I love you so much_ and _I shouldn't want this_ and _never let anyone except you_ and _please I'd let you, please_. And so much more.

                Richie almost starts laughing. Seth nearly trembles. Oh, his neat, stoic brother.

                "This isn't you Richie." _Please let it not be you. You're sick Richie. I should have done something. Poor girl. Fuck, gotta get a hold of him. I can do this. Reassure him. Make him stop. Poor poor girl._

                Seth takes a deep steadying breath before looking Richie in the eyes - and hitches back half a step at seeing the obvious amusement there.

                "What the fuck's so funny Richie."

                "I'm a saint Seth." He takes a step forward, still smiling amusedly, and Seth holds his ground. "You're pretending you aren't afraid of me. You don't have to. I like it. Did you really mean you'd bend over for me _anywhere_?"

                Seth does take a step back then. Richie takes a certain delight in watching a curtain of impassivity fall over Seth's features. _He doesn't know. How could he know? He doesn't fucking know Seth get your head in the game. It's just an extension of his bullshit jail jokes._ Seth's hands start to belatedly fidget, Richie thinks about those fingertips curling through his hair.

                "Richie. I don't know what the fuck you're talking about." Seth's eyebrows curve down in disapproval. Usually, at this point, Richie might placate.

                "You think that word will make you sound tough." Richie hisses, "Fine, I'm a _fucking_ saint."

                This time when Richie steps in Seth nearly trips, foot caught somewhere between the bed and the body. Richie catches his arm firmly, leans in and whispers sweetly in his ear, "I think I do it better" pushes a little and watches him fall.

                 Seth lands on her arm, and the pool of blood beneath it. He jars the body enough for the eyeball to dislodge from her hand and roll across the floor. Richie sighs. _Get it together Seth. Richie needs you. Th-this needs to not be happening. It's an eyeball. He - oh god. Why. Why would he do this. This isn't him. Can't be him._ Seth's shoe catches on slick when he tries to get up and his knee smashes hard against the floor.

                Richie smiles, Seth is panicking but it's so sweet Richie doesn't want it to stop. When Seth finally  pushes himself back up there is a smear of blood against his cheek and a body between them. Seth's eyes seem impossibly wide, adam's apple bobbing, and Richie likes that he put that look on his brother's face.

                "Hm," Richie murmurs, "If I had known you'd act so damn wholesome when you were afraid I might have told you I'd murdered our father earlier too."

                Richie has seen him afraid. Seth goes cold, incalculable, slick. But this is a different kind of fear.

                "Stop it. Shut up Richie!" Seth snaps. _He's lying, he's a fucking liar. It was a house fire. He's just messing with me. Stop listening. You need to stop him. He's sick. And he doesn't know. Not about that. Not about me._

                "You know why I'm a saint?" _He's fucking delusional. Richie. Please stop this. No, I gotta stop this._ Richie smiles. "All this time I've been so incredibly good to you. For you. Let you be _Captain_ because you didn't trust me. Even though I'm smarter than you. Kept my hands to myself."  Seth is turning pale. _He doesn't know._ "I've been good all this time. You have no idea how hard it's been. I mean I must have been twelve - no, probably eleven - when I had the strongest urge to split your chubby little ass open on my dick."

                Seth's mouth gapes and Richie can't wait to stick his tongue in. But they're not there yet.

_No, no, he's sick. He doesn't mean that. That's - Stop it Seth, that's your little brother. He - he couldn't. Eleven? that's too young for - no, he's wrong._

                "Stop. It. You're sick Richie. You don't know what you're saying." It comes out with strength Richie knows Seth doesn't feel.

                "Think I could have had you? You probably wouldn't have _let_ me. You're older, sure, but you always were the...delicate one." _Fucked up. This is fucked up. This is my fault. Maybe he saw - No. No, it's that fucking eyeball thing!_

                "It's gonna be okay Richie. But you gotta shut the fuck up now. " Seth says it forcefully, and fully looks like he expects to be obeyed. Richie's amusement grows. _Okay. It's gonna be okay. He doesn't know what he's saying. He can't. This isn't happening. He won't remember this. He doesn't mean this._ Maybe Richie would have listened before he'd heard the retroactive slutty pleas Seth left banging around in his head, _Let you do anything to me_ and _I'd be so tight, so good, for you. Please_.

"I mean I wouldn't have fucked you when I was eleven," Richie continues, "that's pretty disgusting. A few years later though. It's almost a shame about the baby fat. Maybe if I would have been the older brother. Bet you'd like that, huh?"

                _What the fuck? This needs to stop._

                "I don't know what the fuck you're getting at Richie. But Don't. Just don't alright? You weren't like this when we were kids. What you're saying now? That's not something a kid could come up with. It's retrospection, it's adult fantasies." _I would have noticed. Only abused kids think like that. He wasn't. Not him, I made sure. But I wasn't always looking. What if-_                

                "I wasn't abused." Seth looks properly perturbed at Richie's interruption, as if he doesn't know where it's coming from, and alternately relieved. Richie nearly sighs again. "Take your clothes off Seth and get on the bed. I'm going to fuck you on it."

                Seth whimpers at that, sags a little as if his knees have gone weak, and it's all Richie can do to have patience. But it's an art he's been practicing for years. _This isn't the same. Richie isn't like that._ Richie is confused for a second but then he sees the way Seth's hand trembles and is lost. Seth stands immobile and Richie practically growls, playfully - still over the moon about his revelation, "Do you need me to make you Big Brother?"

                " I think you're confused." _I need to snap him out of this. This isn't him, he's never been like this. A-and he couldn't know. Not about that. I made sure._

"I guess you do." Richie ignores him and untucks his gun, which he has no intention of using. "I'll make it clear then Seth. It you're not naked on that bed in 30 seconds my cock isn't the only thing you're going to be fucked with."

                "Rich-"

                Seth takes a step forward to put his hand on Richie's arm like he's done a million times before. It puts him just in reach so when Richie strikes out hard, the gun glances off Seth's cheekbone. _Richie Please._ Seth winces but otherwise pretends it doesn't hurt. He takes a step back.

                "I'm not doing this. I don't know what's going through your head right now but you need to snap out of it. Right now Richie or so help me -" _He wouldn't. Richie wouldn't. He doesn't understand what he's doing. I have to get us through this._

                "Do I have to go get another girl?" It's playing dirty but Richie doesn't care. _Fuck. Not that._

There is a moment where Richie doesn't quite know if Seth intends to undress or not. But then the moment is over and he watches, heart pounding, as Seth strips methodically - the force of indignity roughing his actions.

                _Just gotta get him close enough. Off guard. Then I'll knock him out. Wait for this to pass. He isn't himself. He's gonna be okay, I just gotta..._

Seth stands stiffly, defiantly, in his boxers and when Richie motions to the bed he very reluctantly goes.

                "This is fucking stupid." Seth says, and Richie is only half listening, eyes raking over his brother. _Not like he hasn't seen me like this before. I gotta calm down. I'm not doing us any favors like this._ "Really fucking stupid. I mean, you think I actually believe your bluff? I think your joke's gone pretty fucking far enough now Richie. We need to get out of here while that body's still cooling."

                "Isn't a joke. Spread your legs." That makes Seth pause. _This is a joke. Remember that Seth. He doesn't know._ Seth's legs do the opposite of what Richie wants. Seth clamps his knees tight, face drawn. Richie almost frowns, but it's charming in a way.

                Richie's on him so fast Seth has to take a moment to catch the breath he gets knocked out of him. Richie makes a wild grab between his legs and it hurts Seth so much it makes his muscles tense that much more - make it that much easier to keep Richie out. And yet Richie still manages to pry his legs apart.

                Then he's between them.          

                He moves, violently. Seth is rocking and he can't think. He tries to push him off with his arms but he's shaking too bad and Richie knocks them away with ease.

                _This is Richie. This is Richie. You're safe with Richie. Richie wouldn't, not really._

Richie doesn't slow until he feels Seth's cock start to fill. Then he grinds slowly, carefully, with just enough pressure to keep Seth pinned down. Seth's hands are clenching futilely against his biceps. _Richie, don't hurt me please._

Richie catches an errant tear with his tongue, surprised to find Seth _crying_ , and then he is lapping at Seth's face. He kisses him properly then, hard press and closed mouth. _I love you._

                "Didn't you ever wonder why I always talk about your ass getting fucked? Huh, Seth? Prison jokes and old perverts at rest stops." _It isn't funny. Could happen to anyone. Almost did. Richie would laugh._ Seth makes a small hurt noise and Richie can feel the despair behind it and stills.

                "I did look out for you in prison, you know. I would have killed anyone who touched you. It's only fun if it isn't true." _He's stopped._ Seth registers. _Move Seth. Fucking get him off. Move, do anything!_ The hands on Richie's biceps curl weakly. _It shouldn't be funny at all then Richie._ A stronger, more decided buck of Seth's hips nearly knock Richie off balance and he grabs at Seth's neck, digging his nails in painfully.

                "You're going to stop that now Seth." And then Richie is sliding off Seth's boxers and dipping his head to take Seth's cock in his mouth.

                "R-Richie! Stop!" _Oh, Oh, Richie._ And Seth's voice is squeaking. Richie can tell Seth really means to push him away this time but before he can Richie lets his cock go with an obscene 'pop'.

_Th-this needs to s-stop. Richie shouldn't. This is my fault. Richie shouldn't._

"What, didn't like that? Maybe you'll like my dick pummeling your ass better." _Fucking do something! Stop him. Stop him._ Richie snugs himself more tightly into the v of Seth's legs, and reaches into his pocket.

"D-don't!" _Please Richie Stop._

                "I have lube, you need to calm the fuck down Seth and accept this is happening. I'm not going to hurt you. I know getting fucked with a dead body in the room isn't the most romantic thing. And honestly, if I'd known this was ever going to happen at all, this isn't how I would of played it. But then I did know, and I can't wait. To be fair, you did say _anywhere_."

                Seth's wide, tearful eyes trace the slick running over Richie's fingers with horror. _Richie's going to - oh, no. Please Richie I can't._

"Shush now. This isn't going to hurt." Seth's legs clamp around him, trying desperately to close. Richie pauses, dismayed.

                "This isn't going to work if you're all tense."

                "T-This isn't going to work a-at all Richie. L-let me up. I need to go to the washroom. I need to-" _I'm dirty inside. He'll see. I can't. Not Richie. Not Richie. I can run. I'll come back when he's alright again. I just need to -_

Richie silences him with a kiss, open-mouthed, soft and girly and romantic and everything else he knows Seth will love. Then he prods and slips a finger inside. Seth grunts. The noise is so surprising Richie nearly laughs. _Hurts._ Seth can probably feel the smile against his lips because when Richie pulls away more fat tears are slipping down Seth's face. _Not Richie. I don't know how to stop this. Richie, Richie I'm scared. I'm sorry._

Richie just grins down at him. "S' tight. Your ass is so clingy." he states as he tries to draw his finger out and Seth clenches, "How slutty. You a good slut Seth? You want me to use you real good?"

                _I-it's Richie. Richie's inside me._ Seth's hips unconsciously cant. Richie's glasses slide down and Seth reaches to push them up. Richie lets him, and then begins finger fucking in earnest. Seth bites his lip, small noises like mewling escaping and Richie shoves in another before Seth is properly ready.

                _It's just two. I've used two but Richie's fingers feel bigger._ Richie falters then, at that thought.  Seth's hips unconsciously chase the rhythm. Richie is panting now.

                "Fuck, Seth. " Richie doesn't know how much longer he can wait. He's been pretty patient. So he finds Seth's prostrate in the next breath and then Seth's back is arched and he is moaning Richie's name. _Oh. Ah. Feels_ Whimper _good._ "Uhnnnnnn" and Seth is probably the most ridiculous person Richie's ever fucked. He hadn't been expecting it and it somehow makes him more fond.

                Seth makes the stupidest noises when Richie stabs at his prostrate with little rhythmic motions of his fingers. He goes, "Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah." like some whore in a porno that doesn't know how to act. _Richie, Richie, Richie._

And then, the sentence that breaks the whole mood and will color Richie's existence until he feels his blood run through his fingers, flesh crush beneath his fist.

                _Not like Uncle Eddy. It's not. Richie please, just you._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Self-Contained

 

_You're a sick fuck Seth. How could you do that. You're such a piece of shit. How could you do that to Richie._

"Shut up Seth," Richie guns the motor. "I'm trying to think."

_Never even said anything. Richie's losing it. How the fuck could I take advantage of my sick brother like that? I'm such a fucking mess and Richie is paying the price._

Richie sighs deeply, but half way through his breath stutters in anger. _Stupid, stupid. He's your little brother and you..._

"Just tell me." Richie bites out, "Were you ever going to let me know about Uncle Eddy?" His hands itch. He knows if he tries to touch Seth now it will probably turn violent. He reminds himself none of this is Seth's fault. Instead he tightens his hands on the wheel. Seth is uncharacteristically coy, curled against the door. Richie hates it.

"I don't know what you're talking about Richie. W-we should..." _Talk? About fucking what? Richie's murder spree? My inability to keep my fucking hands to my fucking self? I shouldn't even be near him. He isn't well. You took fucking **advantage** of your little brother, you piece of shit. I deserve to fucking rot._

" You and Uncle Eddy. I want the details. Now." Richie say, dangerous, low.

"Are you trying to get us killed?! Slow down Richie!" The engine revs louder. Then, belatedly, "I don't know what you want to hear." _Why is he so stuck on Uncle Eddy all of a sudden. Who am I kidding it's probably because he's trying to distract himself from the fact his older brother is a lecherous asshole._

Richie's knuckles whiten. "I'm going to kill him. You hear me Seth? I'll rip his fucking eyes out, cut his dick off and shove it down his fucking throat. I'll bleed him out, fucking skin him. Piece by piece, one square inch at a time. I'll do it slow. Give him a Colombian _fucking_ necktie."

"Richie." _What? Gonna tell him to calm down? You don't fucking deserve to speak to him._ "You need to calm down."

"I don't think so Seth."

The car nearly goes into a tailspin when Richie makes a hard arc into a pull out. Richie doesn't take his hands off the wheel. He turns to face Seth who shifts uncomfortably, looking pointedly out the window.

"Firstly, I..." Richie's voice fades out a little. Seth won't look at him. His anger drains away and for a minute he worries Seth might never look at him again. But no, he isn't thinking about that. Irrationally Richie reaches over and yanks Seth's face toward him, panic making the motions rough.  Seth won't meet his eyes. Desperately, foolishly, he wishes Seth would hug him. He lets go and it's enough that Seth doesn't shift away again.

"What _Uncle_ " Richie spits the word, "Eddy did to you. I don't - you won't even think about it. How can I _know_..." he trails off. How damaged you are, how to comfort you - these go left unsaid.

Seth takes a deep breath but it hitches.

"R-Richie. Things haven't been right for a long time. But this..what we did at the hotel. We can't do that Richie. That isn't..." _Don't cry. Don't you dare. This is my fault. I should have got him help. Instead I let him carve up some poor girls. Those poor girls. It shouldn't be them. It should be me on the floor._

"Those _girls_ needed to die!" Richie protests, but it's the same old fight by now and it's a distraction. Richie needs to stay focused. "The hotel. That was- I shouldn't have done that. Should have went slow but I didn't know about _him_. I wanted you and you wanted me and I didn't _want_ to think about anything else. Couldn't think of a reason you'd even try to resist. "

"Richie-" Seth starts and Richie tries to interrupt but Seth holds a hand up. _How could I destroy us like this._  "Went slow, Richie? You act like it's okay, like - " _This is too much. No, the girls were too much_ "...just listen, alright? Don't interrupt. We are never going to do that again. I mean it. No more touching. No more killing girls. No more talking about it. Nothing. You touch me again, you kill anybody that doesn't have a gun pointed at your face and I-I'm gone."

 _He'll agree, he's not going to leave. He won't. Please Richie don't. Please._ Richie is very nearly worried about the terms and it sets his teeth on edge. But he knows Seth can't keep to his word, not really. _I gotta get control of this. Come on Seth, fucking put a stop to this. You gotta do this for Richie. Who you fucking took **advantage** of._

"You're fucked in the head Seth." Richie concludes, tiredly, listening to the way Seth absolves him of any guilt. _I know, I'm sorry Richie. So sorry._ Richie hates that it makes him itch with want. Even now, knowing what he knows, he just wants to press Seth down onto the seat and fuck him.

"Can you keep my terms or not? Let me know." And Seth has very nearly got his game face back in place.  _Please Richie just be my brother again. Please, I love you. Don't touch me like that again. Don't hurt me. It felt good and I'm sick and we can't. We can't._

Richie clears his throat. He goes for honesty. It's not going to turn out like Seth wants. Richie isn't willing to keep those terms forever, and he isn't willing to let Seth go. But - a little restraint wouldn't hurt.

"I took your reluctance for morality, not.....I wanted to hurt you. I like hurting you, you're right I'm sick. I like hurting you. But not this much." Richie can hardly believe the longing and desire he'd felt from Seth, how something he'd felt so strongly could be interpreted so wrong. "Honestly I'm sorry I like it at all, must be something of dad in me, huh? I am so angry right now, not at you, and just-  And I can hear your thoughts. And you wanted me-"

"You can't hear my thoughts Richie." Seth is actually meeting his eyes and he looks so afraid for him. His eyes are too wide for his pale, pale face. Richie sighs brokenly, Seth doesn't understand. Richie pushes his glasses up further on his face and Seth's expression just breaks with a fresh wave of pain. _Had your hands all over your little brother. And I dreamt about it. Wanted to push his glasses back like that forever. And I did. I did. Richie, I'm so sorry._

Richie clears his throat, he takes a moment to think long and hard about Uncle Eddy to keep himself from reaching out for Seth. Reminds himself that it is fucking inappropriate. It's easy enough to let the anger consume him. Fucking Uncle Eddy. There is no limit to the depths Richie will sink to in order to get at him. And it will be really fucking soon. Until then Seth is still a mess, still alone, without Richie to turn to.

Richie's biggest problem is getting Seth back on his side.

"I can read minds." Richie says "Go on, I'll show you. Think of a color, animal, anything. I'll show you."

All he gets back is that same fearful stare. Seth nearly starts as Richie leans near him to open the dash and take out a pen and paper.

"Write it down. I'll show you." Richie shoves the pen and paper into Seth's slack hands. " _Do it_."

Seth does, reluctantly. Richie listens and listens as Seth writes, shakingly, and folds the paper up but all he can hear is _We're in trouble. What we did, Richie would never do that, something is wrong, he isn't himself._

"You're not concentrating hard enough." He tells Seth. Seth's gaze goes to the paper but it doesn't change anything. _This is my fault. I'm the big brother. I'm stronger than Richie, and I didn't even stop him. I deserve this, who fantasizes about their little brother like I do. I'm sick and I made Richie sick and he isn't himself. And I'm a fucking bastard anyway. I let those girls die. I didn't know. I didn't know he would - and I still want him to touch me. I'm sick Richie._

Finally Richie just rips the slip of paper out of Seth's hand.

"Purple Elephant." Richie reads and shivers go down his spine. _I am evil. Just like our father said, hey Richie? I wanted to save you._ Richie knows he isn't crazy. If he is then he's just raped Seth and that is unacceptable. And maybe he raped him anyway but it can't be because Seth wanted it. Richie clings to that. He hasn't kept himself from years and years of lost opportunities for nothing. He's always known he could take what he wanted, and he'd always tried very hard not to think about it. He's been a saint. He has.

"You wanted it Seth. Didn't you? At the hotel, it was me so you wanted to, right?" He says quietly.

"No, Richie. I didn't want to." _But I did, a little, didn't I? It felt so good. You felt so good Richie. I'm sick. I'm sick. How could I like that, and I-I've always been sick like this. Fucking touching myself. I'm so sick it was only a matter of time before I contaminated Richie. I should have known better. I'm so sick and it makes me sick to think about and I'm sorry._

"You did. You thought about me. You thought about it alot. You wanted me to touch you."

"Richie." Seth says, like he's losing it.

"You said you'd do anything for me, let me have anything from you."

"Richie don't." A tear is very nearly spilling over onto Seth's face.

"I love you Seth. I wanted to make you feel good. I did. I thought I could make you. That you'd want to. I thought you were just too _shy_ to take what you wanted. I don't know what I was thinking. Of course you'd be afraid of us, you hate change. I liked that you were afraid of me. Thought I could have your fear and your desire too. Maybe I thought that you just needed to be _convinced_ \- " Richie's voice cracks on the last word.

"Stop." Seth chokes on a sound embarrassingly like a sob.

"Please Seth. You wanted it, maybe not then, but you did." Richie must sound just as desperate because it nearly cracks Seth. Richie doesn't relent.

"Seth I need to know if- if you and Uncle Eddy." Richie changes tactics because he knows if he asks plainly Seth won't tell the truth. He lies. "I saw you. You and Uncle Eddy when we were younger... It screwed me up, don't you think I deserve the truth?"

Before Richie even finishes the sentence he knows. Seth has gone deathly white.

"I didn't mean for you to see" is all he says.

Richie isn't sure whether he should be relieved because he isn't entirely crazy or devastated that he isn't because then Seth wouldn't have had to go through that.  With a startling, ugly little laugh Richie twists towards the door, grasping the handle and spilling out. He realizes it wouldn't matter, either way Seth got fucked. Violated, _hurt_ , raped. It doesn't matter whose hands it was, not really. But he loves the fact it was him, it makes his heart pound and his blood hot, and for the first time Richie fully agrees with Seth. There is something wrong with him.

Richie pukes out the door.

He distantly hears the passenger door open and then Seth is stroking his hair. Seth whispers and Richie can barely hear what he is saying. There is little comfort in the words.

"I wanted you. So badly, I did. I'm sorry Richie. I'm so sorry. You were right. Let's just be brothers. I'm sorry, okay? I'll make it right."

A small kiss is pressed to Richie's temple and it makes him shake. Seth, Richie thinks achingly. Ritchie reaches for a hug and Seth tries to enclose his arms around him but Richie doesn't allow it. Instead he folds around Seth and brings him close. Feels Seth's tears soak into his shoulder. Richie will make it right, make it better. Richie feels a small thrill of fear, knowing he could have exactly what he wants, break Seth so easy. But he won't. I'm a saint, he reminds himself.

He rocks Seth back and forth a little, listening - can't be thoughts no, must be feelings.   _Richie won't hurt me. He won't. He didn't._ And tries to believe it. I was good, he thinks, I can be good again.

But - doubt is niggling in the back of his mind - now he knows what Seth tastes like.

 

 

 

 


End file.
